Gypsy
Smith (1860-1947)

His
Life and Work

By Himself

My readers may remember that Mr.
B.F. Byrom had met Dr. Simeon Macphail in Palestine and had spoken to him about
my work. This, later on, led to an intimate friendship between me and Dr. Macphail,
who has been very kind and helpful to me; indeed, it was to Dr. Macphail that
I owed an invitation to conduct a fortnight's mission in Edinburgh in May, 1892.
The place of meeting was Fountain Bridge Free Church (now United Free Church),
of which the minister was the Rev. George D. Low, M.A. This was my first visit
to Edinburgh and to Scotland. The church was too small for the crowds who came
to hear me, and on the last night of the mission, when I gave the story of my
life, the meeting was held in St. George's, of which the renowned Dr. Alexander
Whyte is the minister. Dr. Whyte was good enough to preside at the lecture,
and at the close he said to me: "I have heard many great men in that pulpit,
but I have never felt my heart so moved as it was tonight by your story. I do
not envy the man who listened to it with dry eyes." I can never forget
Dr. Whyte's smile. It is so obviously the effluence of a rich, noble, generous
soul. It suggests a quarter of an acre of sunshine.

Mr. Low contributed an account of the mission to the British Weekly of June
23rd. He said: -

"My friend, the Rev.
Simeon R. Macphail, M.A., of Canning Street, Liverpool, when visiting me in
March, spoke of Gipsy Smith, but when he proposed a fortnight's mission to be
conducted by him in my church at the end of May and the beginning of June, the
proposition did not commend itself to me, Evangelistic services in summer, and
just as the sittings of the General Assemblies were concluding, were not likely
to prove a success. Mr. Macphail urged me to close with the offer, saying that
once Gipsy Smith was on the spot he would speedily make his way among us. And
so we invited him.

From the outset the attendance was encouraging, and it soon became manifest
that a man of no ordinary power had come. The numbers speedily increased until
the church was full, a large proportion of the audience being young men. On
the evening of the second Sabbath, every inch of available space was occupied
and many failed to get admission. So far as I know, nothing like it has been
seen in Edinburgh for many years.

Gipsy Smith is a born orator with great dramatic fire, of singular intensity
of spirit. His voice is tuneful and flexible, and lends itself readily to the
expression of every mood of mind and every form of discourse. He is specially
effective when he illustrates and illuminates some point, or some Gospel truth,
by an incident simple, tender, pathetic, from his old gipsy life, to which he
frequently alludes as one proud of his origin. His addresses are Scriptural,
as might be expected from one who is an unwearied and resolute student of the
Bible. In manner he is simple, unaffected, gentlemanly, and I can speak the
more confidently regarding this as he lived under my roof while in Edinburgh,
and gained the esteem and affection of every member of my household by his sunny,
gracious personality. His singing, which is of great purity and excellence,
adds greatly to his power. From first to last no fewer than 150 professed their
faith in Jesus Christ.

Gipsy Smith has agreed to come back again to Edinburgh, and we shall hail his
return. Meantime we rejoice that his first visit has been so signally owned
of God. Many in my own congregation and beyond it will never cease to thank
God for his fortnight's mission at Fountain Bridge."

Out of this visit to Edinburgh grew
my mission to the gipsies. I had long had it in my heart to do something for my
people, but the opportunity had never come to me. I could not myself undertake
the responsibility of the work, nor could I very well lead the way. Still I had
always hoped to see the time when some missionary would live amongst my people
in a parsonage on wheels, teaching the children, and preaching the Gospel to them
and their parents. My last service was on Monday night. I was to leave Edinburgh
early on Tuesday morning. I remember it was a miserably wet day, raining in the
determined and pitiless way that rain has in Edinburgh. In the midst of the rain,
a lady drove up to Mr. Low's manse and asked to see me. I should like very much
to give her name, but I am not permitted to do so. She had heard me in Dr. Whyte's
church the night before. Owing to illness, that was the only service that she
had been able to attend. For some years she had been deeply interested in the
gipsies, and God had been continually urging her to do something; for them. I
asked her how she first came to be interested in my people. "Some years ago,"
she said, "I was living near a great Lancashire town, and I devoted all my
leisure to visiting the homes of the poor. I was one day summoned to a gipsy waggon
where a poor woman lay very ill. I read the Bible to her, I prayed with her, and
she seemed grateful." The name of the spot where the gipsy encampment which
the lady visited was situated was familiar to my ears. I asked the lady some further
questions. I discovered that the poor woman was no other than my aunt, my mother's
brother's wife. The distinguishing mark by which I recognised her was the big
scar on her forehead that had been observed by the lady, and the way in which
she dressed her hair to hide it. I felt my heart open in love and gratitude to
one who had so kindly served one of my own folk. The upshot of the conversation
was that the noble Scotch lady said to me, "If you will take charge of a
mission to the gipsies, I will give you the first waggon, the parsonage on wheels
for which you asked in your lecture last night." And so was formed the Gipsy
Gospel Waggon Mission.

Dr. Alexander Whyte was good enough to become one of the directors, so also was
Dr. Simeon Macphail, of Liverpool. The Rev. S.R. Collier, among all his multitudinous
activities, finds time to manage the Mission, and my friend, Mr. B.F. Byrom, is
the honorary treasurer. The principal support of the Mission has been the collections
that are taken at the close of my lecture on the story of my life. We also get
a few subscriptions and a few donations. Our first waggon missioner, who is still
with us, was Mr. Wesley Baker, an excellent man and a good evangelist. He generally
has an assistant for company and fellowship. A lonely life in a waggon would become
almost unbearable. The waggon has travelled all over the country and has been
especially useful in the New Forest and at Blackpool. Evangelistic work among
the gipsies is slow and hard. My people have quick eyes, quick ears, and ready
tongues. But for years - nay, for centuries - their hearts have been blinded to
the things of God. There is hardly a race on the face of this globe to whom religion
is so utterly foreign a thing. The gipsies are slow to comprehend the plan of
salvation, and even when they have understood, they are slow to use it, because,
for one thing, their trade is declining; they are depending more and more on the
fortune-telling, and they know very well that if they become Christians that lying
practice must cease. Despite these difficulties, Mr. Baker and his assistants
have done good work. They have been cheered by not a few conversions, and they
have done not a little to give the children some smattering of an education. The
manner of their life makes anything more than this impossible. However, I am fully
confident that the Gipsy Gospel Waggon Mission is the leaven that will, in course
of time, leaven the whole lump.

I have only just received a report from Mr. Wesley Baker concerning some work
at Blackpool which may give my readers an idea of what the Gipsy Mission is doing.
"Some five or six weeks ago," writes Mr. Baker, "Algar Boswell
came down to our tent and signed the pledge. Since then he has been most happy,
and he has made up his mind to take Christ as his Saviour, intending to make a
public confession last night. But in consequence of the sudden death of a relative,
who left Blackpool last Tuesday intending to winter at Sheffield, he was called
away yesterday morning, and, of course, could not be with us. Before he left home
he said to his wife, "Now, Athalia, you go down to the tent to-day and tell
Mr. Baker how sorry I am not to be able to attend the last services. Tell him
not to be discouraged, as their faithful work is not without results, as I mean
to give up this kind of life and serve God.' Some of the gipsies stayed last night
until near ten o'clock, but Athalia did not get the blessing. She came down this
morning in great distress. We had prayer with her, and she herself prayed most
earnestly, and just before twelve the Lord saved her. We are expecting Algar back
this afternoon, and he and his wife are coming down to-night, when we hope to
have a prayer meeting with them.

Algar has had a most remarkable dream. He dreamt that he was falling into a deep
pit, and after struggling for some time, he saw our waggon coming along. It stopped
close to where he was, and making a great effort, he succeeded in getting hold
of it at the back. Just then Mr. Zebedee and I went to him, took him by the hand,
and lifted him out of his misery. We placed him on a rock and told him to stay
there. At this point he woke up. It was two o'clock in the morning. He roused
his wife and children and related his dream to them."